


For The Love of Carl

by iloveromance



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:51:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iloveromance/pseuds/iloveromance
Summary: What if it was all just a bad nightmare? Carl, Rick and Michonne. (Episode: "Honor")





	For The Love of Carl

Rick knelt beside Carl, trying to maintain his composure. But how could he, how could any father possibly keep from breaking down knowing that his son was clinging to life? He brushed away tears, unable to look at the woman who sat on the other side of Carl, keeping vigil. He knew how much she loved him and just moments ago had confessed that Carl was her best friend. And that in itself meant the world to Rick. To see the pain in her eyes at that moment would have crushed him. 

“Dad?”

Rick’s gaze went back to his son and with just one look; a thousand memories flooded his mind. It wasn’t fair. He’d been there when Carl entered the world and as fate (or rather very bad luck) would have it, he was going to be there when Carl left it. 

Damn, it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t right! Rick was supposed to be the one to go first, whether bitten or attacked at the hands of Negan, it didn’t matter. Fathers weren’t supposed to outlive their children. He missed Hershel terribly and he still hated the Governor for making Maggie and Beth orphans. But at least Hershel didn’t have to watch his children die. God, he wished that Hershel was there at that moment. Hershel, it seemed, always knew what to say. 

He sighed. He knew it wasn’t right, wishing that he was the one dying, but the truth was that he’d seen enough; more than any man had a right to see. He shouldn’t have to be punished any further. And watching his son die…. Well, that was a punishment that was worse than hell. 

“Dad?” Carl said again; his voice even weaker than before. 

Rick cupped Carl’s face in his hand, much in the same manner as he’d done when Carl was a little boy. “Yeah?”

“I…”

“Shhh… Don’t try to talk, all right? Just rest.”

“Dad…Michonne…. It’s time.”

The words were like a knife through his heart and although he’d never experienced it personally, he’d seen it happen plenty of times. Now he knew how walkers, biters and creepers felt. But he also knew that the pain he was feeling was different. It was pure, aching loss. 

Beside him he could hear Michonne gasp and as he turned his head just a little, he saw her hand fly to her trembling mouth. Tears spilled down her cheeks and all Rick wanted to do at that moment was to hold her and tell her that everything would be all right. But he knew that was the worst lie imaginable. 

“Nooo…” she was saying. “Carl…”

“I-I have to…” He replied in the same, weak, heartbreaking voice. 

Rick brushed the tears from his cheeks and sniffled as before, brushing the tears from Carl’s face. Suddenly Carl was five again and as before the memories came; memories of his son as well as his daughter and his wife. He thanked God she wasn’t there to bear witness to their son’s death. He could only hope that she was waiting for Carl in heaven, and would look after him there until he could get there and they could be a family again while waiting for Judith’s time to go. But that was very far off into the future. 

“Carl…” He managed to choke out. “You’ll be fine.” 

But Carl was a bright young man and shook his head. “No… I won’t…”

“Yes you will!” Rick said more forcefully. “You have to be! I won’t accept anything less!” 

“Dad-.”

“No! It doesn’t have to be this way!” 

This time Carl smiled. “You and I both know that it does, Dad. It’s always been this way.”

Rick nodded, the tears splashing onto his cheeks. His son knew him too well. “I-I know, but-.” He gasped when Carl slid his hand downward, reaching for his gun. And beside him, Michonne was facing the other direction, unable to look at Carl. She too knew that it would be the last time. 

“Dad-.”

Rick shook his head so forcefully that it made his temples ache. “No. I can’t. I won’t!”

“You have to. It’s the only way.”

“No! I won’t! I can’t!” He repeated.

“Dad, please…”

“You’re my son, Carl! I love you!”

“I love you too, Dad. And if you really love me, you’ll do this.”

Rick turned away. How in the hell could he possibly do what his son asked of him? He couldn’t pull the trigger and end Carl’s life! He wasn’t ready for Carl to leave. He’d never be ready. The thought of taking his own son’s life was unfathomable. But when he felt the gun slip into his hands, he shuddered.  
The barrel felt like ice beneath his fingers. Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled the gun away from Carl until he, Rick, was the only one holding it. It lay in his arms like a child, which was incredibly ironic, given the situation. And it might have even seemed funny had the circumstances been different; very different. 

He looked at Carl and took a deep, shuddering breath. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

Michonne reached for Carl’s hand. “I love you too.”

“I love you Michonne. You’re my best friend.”

The words had been spoken before, but hearing them again warmed Rick’s heart. 

“You’re mine too.” Michonne replied. She was still holding Carl’s right hand in hers when Rick took Carl’s left hand and squeezed gently. His heart was pounding so hard against his chest that it physically hurt. 

“Go on Dad. Do it.”

Unhurriedly, Rick picked up the gun and pointed it at his son, saying a silent prayer for forgiveness and another pray that Hershel and Lori weren’t watching; and if they were that they would understand and somehow forgive him as well. 

His finger trembled as he sluggishly pulled the trigger. 

“NOOO!!”

Shaken to the core, he bolted upright as he fought to calm his breathing and opened his eyes. For a moment he had no idea where he was and it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He felt movement beside him and then a pair of arms went around him, holding him steady.

“Rick, what is it? What’s wrong?””

That voice… Michonne.

He blinked forcing the horrible images away and tried to focus. “Where am I?”

“You’re in our bedroom, remember?” 

“Wh-what? I-.” Once again he tried to focus. Like magic the images of the room began to settle. He saw the dresser, upon which lay his gun-untouched, illuminated by the beam of light that filtered in from the full moon that shown through the window. 

What the hell?

“Rick, what is it?” Michonne asked again. 

He turned to her. “Where’s Carl?”

She reached over and turned on the light and then turned back to him. “What?”

“Where’s Carl?” He said, almost yelling the words. 

“Um, he’s in his room asleep, but Rick-.”

Ignoring her, Rick flung the comforter back and climbed out of bed. He shivered as his bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor. 

“CARL! CARL!” 

He walked out of the bedroom, aware that she was following him. “CARL!” He yelled again. 

She followed him through the small house past the closed door where until he came to the one beside it.

“CARL!” He yelled, banging forcefully on the door. But this time he felt someone grab him. 

“Rick, stop it right now! Stop it this instant!” Michonne yelled. “I told you, Carl is fine!” 

“I have to see him!” 

He turned the knob on the door and opened it so forcefully that it banged against the wall. The room was dark, even darker than his own. But even in the darkness he could see the silhouette of his son. He rushed into the room as the light on his nightstand brightened the room. 

His son was sitting up in bed, wearing a look of complete and utter horror. “Dad, what the hell?”

Rick moved toward Carl and reached out to touch his hair; he had to believe that the moment was real, but when he attempted to brush his fingers against Carl’s hair, Carl moved away and ran his hand through his own hair instead. 

“Carl-.”

“Dad, what the hell?” Carl yelled. “You scared me to death!”

At the word “death”, a sudden, unexplained rage came over Rick; one that he’d never experienced before when it came to his son. He sat down on the bed beside him and grabbed him forcefully by the shoulders, shaking him as hard as he could.

“Ow! Dad, you’re hurting me!” 

“DAMN IT, CARL, DON’T YOU EVER SAY THAT AGAIN, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

“Say what, Dad?”

Once again he shook Carl forcefully, giving little thought to his actions. 

“OW!” 

He felt Michonne hand, attempting to pry his hands way from Carl’s arms. “Rick, stop it right now! Stop it! I-.”

A stream of cries floated in from the room next door and Rick winced. 

“Judith…” Michonne said. “I’ll take care of her.”

When Rick turned back to his son, he was heartbroken to see that Carl was sobbing. “Dad, I’m sorry, all right? Whatever I did, or-or said, I-I…”

Carl’s tearful words were all that it took to cause Rick’s composure to come crashing down. He engulfed Carl in a fierce hug and held him as tightly as possible, rocking him back and forth the way he’d done when Carl was a child. 

“I’m sorry, Carl… I-I’m sorry. I-.”

“No, I’m sorry. Whatever I did, I-.”

“You didn’t do anything. This is not you. It’s me.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?”

He pulled the covers back and took the end of Carl’s t-shirt in his fingers. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he lifted the shirt from Carl’s skin. He expected to see a large, bloody mass, but instead he saw nothing but smooth skin. 

“Dad, what are you doing?”

Rick let out a sigh and hugged Carl tightly. “Nothing, Nothing. I just- You weren’t bitten.”

“Bitten?”

“By the walker or whatever it was.”

“No, I’m just fine.”

“Oh my God…”

“Dad, what is it? Wait, were you having a nightmare?”

"I-.”

When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Michonne holding a tearful Judith in her arms. 

“You were, weren’t you?” Michonne said quietly. “I told you not to go out there last night.”

“I had to. Daryl and Carol-.”

“They can take care of themselves, all right? And so can Carl, and both of us. We all can.”

Rick nodded, smiling for the first time. “I know. I just-.”

“Dad, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“All right.”

“And if I get into trouble, I know what to do. If it gets to intense, I’ll get you or Daryl to cover for me.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, Carl.”

“I love you too, Dad.”

He gave Carl one last hug and took Judith from Michonne’s arms. The nightmare had been so real; too real, and he didn’t want to share the details with his son-or anyone at the moment. Although he knew that he would have to, someday, if he was ever going to be strong.  
Michonne sat down on the bed beside him and hugged Rick and Carl. For what it was worth, they were a family. Maybe not the family that he had envisioned, but a family anyway. And he loved them. He loved them all and always would. He’d do whatever it took to protect them. 

Perhaps that’s why he’d had the nightmare; to remind himself of what could happen. And that only fueled the fire. They had to win the fight. He had to do it for his family. For Carl. And for the love they shared. 

THE END


End file.
